


Not All Holidays are Dangerous

by erin_emily_writes



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, but I like it still and I hope you do too, it's long I know I got carried away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erin_emily_writes/pseuds/erin_emily_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil had never flown before… not on a normal plane, that is. He’d told stories of the trip he’d taken to “Europe” when he was younger, but Carlos was pretty sure that trip did not happen, or if it did, it happened in some alternate reality. Either way, Cecil had never really flown before, and that was only one of the things on the list of what Carlos was nervous about as they prepared to visit his family in New York City for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not All Holidays are Dangerous

Ever since Cecil’s most recent re-education, Carlos had been wishing he could just get Cecil out of Night Vale for a little while. For months now, Carlos had noticed an increase in the number of nights Cecil had spent unable, or unwilling, to sleep, and he thought a change in scenery might help.

He’d tried suggesting they take a couple of days to visit some city, like Tucson or Albuquerque or, hell, somewhere just a few towns over where he could pretend to do some research. Cecil hadn’t taken to any of Carlos’s suggestions, and no matter where the discussion had started, it usually ended in bed with Cecil whispering something to the effect of “Why would we leave when we could just stay here, together, like this?”

As the last month of the year approached, Carlos realized he was out of ideas. He couldn’t think of any excuses he hadn’t used or locations he hadn’t brought up — until a comforting and familiar voice asked him over the phone if he was coming home for the holidays this year.

“Sí, mamá, voy a estar allí.”

 

After a particularly long day of work for both of them during the first week of December, Cecil and Carlos lay in bed, quiet. They’d been swapping stories from the day — how Carlos had accidentally almost been sucked into the dog park, how Cecil had saved an intern from certain death, and how, by some coincidence, Steve Carlsberg being a jerk had directly affected each of them.

Now, they lay in near silence, the only sounds coming from the insects and other creatures and occasional helicopter heard through the open window and Cecil absentmindedly twirling a few strands of Carlos’s hair. As much as he hated to interrupt the moment, Carlos knew it was time to bring out the big guns.

“Cecil,” Carlos said, head resting on Cecil’s stomach.

“Hmm?”

“I have to tell you something.”

Cecil abruptly stopped playing with Carlos’s hair, and a few locks fell into his eyes. “What is it, Carlos?”

Cecil’s voice was full of concern. Carlos shifted, propping himself up on his elbows and looking into Cecil’s worried violet eyes.

“I’m going to visit my family for Christmas,” Carlos said, bracing himself.

Cecil’s expression turned from worry to heartbreak in less than a second.

“Oh,” he said quietly, looking down at his folded hands. “Um, okay.”

“I want you to come with me,” Carlos said.

Cecil’s head snapped back up. His eyes were bright, his expression apprehensive.

“Oh,” he said again, surprised. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“… _Really_?”

“Really, Cecil.”

Cecil paused, searching Carlos’s face. “Are you sure?” he finally asked.

“Yes!” Carlos said, sitting up. “Why would I not be sure? I miss them, I want to visit, and I want you to meet them.”

“Well, I… I don’t know… I just don’t want you to be, like, ugh, you know, embarrassed… about… me…” Cecil said, looking everywhere except at Carlos and trailing off at the end.

“Cecil!” Carlos said, taking Cecil’s face in his hands and turning it back to face him. “That is ridiculous. Of course I want my family to meet you. How could I ever be embarrassed about you? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and—“

Before Carlos could finish his sentence, Cecil’s lips were on his. He smiled and pulled Cecil closer. He decided it was safe to assume his mission had been a success.

 

\--------------------------

 

For the next two weeks, Carlos tried to prepare Cecil for the upcoming trip. He attempted to explain the differences between Night Vale and New York, but there were so many it felt like he’d only scratched the surface. It didn’t help that any time Carlos mentioned the trip, Cecil got a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face that could outshine the sun.

“Cecil, this is important,” Carlos would say.

“Oh?” Cecil would reply, sidling up to him.

“Really, it is.”

And then Carlos would try to explain how cold it would be, his family traditions, the properties of snow, or something to that effect, but Cecil would only listen for a few moments before he retreated into that “my-boyfriend-is-taking-me-home-for-Christmas” attitude and wouldn’t listen anymore.

After what seemed like forever and no time at all — and it could have been either, or both, honestly, given the reputation of time in Night Vale — it was two days before Christmas and Carlos found himself zipping his suitcase and leaving it near the front door with Cecil’s so they would be ready to load into the car in the morning. He made sure Cecil had enough warm clothing, and that he hadn’t packed anything that would get them in trouble with security. Cecil set the timer on the coffee pot, and the pair got into bed once Carlos was sure he could do nothing else.

Carlos laid back, one arm thrown carelessly above his head and the other wrapped around Cecil, who was curled beside him with his head on his shoulder and an arm across his chest. They stayed that way for a long time, each listening to the other breathe in the darkness. Carlos closed his eyes and wished that sleep would come, but his mind was running at far too high of a speed, worrying and overthinking, something he was prone to.

He worried his mother and sister wouldn’t approve of Cecil. He worried Cecil would be overwhelmed by meeting his family. He worried Cecil would be overwhelmed by the trip in itself — flying, spotting mountains from the plane, seeing snow for the first time, being in one of the largest cities in the world… just one of those things would be enough, but Cecil experiencing all of them and meeting Carlos’s family in the same day seemed like a combination with the potential for extreme disaster.

“Carlos,” Cecil whispered, breaking Carlos’s stream of thoughts.

“Hmm?” Carlos whispered back.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Me either, querido.”

They snuggled closer together.

“I’m just so excited,” Cecil said.

Carlos smiled. “So am I.”

“Is there really going to be snow?” Cecil asked.

“Mama said it just snowed yesterday.”

Cecil frowned. “Will it still be there?”

“Well, yeah. Snow stays on the ground until the weather gets warm enough for it to melt.”

“Huh,” Cecil said. He traced a pattern across Carlos’s chest.

“How many people will we see tomorrow?” Cecil asked. Carlos thought he heard some nerves in Cecil’s normally calm and measured voice.

“Not everyone, but at least mama, Ana, her husband, and her kids.” He paused. “They’re gonna love you, you know,” he added.

“Thank you, Carlos,” Cecil said. “I hope so.”

They lay awake, not speaking, for some time. Carlos let his mind drift to his family and the city. Somewhere, between images of his relatives gathered in his mother’s living room and walking hand in hand with Cecil through the streets he once walked as a child, his thoughts turned to dreams.

 

Said dreams were interrupted by the alarm on Carlos’s phone. He groaned and reached over to the nightstand to turn the alarm off. Before he could roll over and wake Cecil, however, the bedroom light came on.

“Morning!” Cecil said.

“What are you doing?” Carlos mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Cecil bounced across the room and put a mug of coffee on the nightstand. He leaned over and kissed Carlos’s sleepy lips. “Time to get up, we’ve got places to be!”

Carlos opened his eyes and realized Cecil was dressed, his hair was combed, and he was as peppy as he’d be if it were one in the afternoon instead of four in the morning. Carlos sat up and took a few gulps of coffee before getting himself out of bed. After the short time it took him to get dressed, brush his teeth, run a hand through his hair, and make sure his carry-on bag contained everything he needed — laptop, research files, boarding passes, wallet, and the like — Carlos went to the living room and saw that Cecil had already packed the rest of the bags into the car.

“Ready?” Cecil asked, keys in hand.

Carlos drained the rest of his coffee and rinsed the mug.

“I am if you are,” he replied. “And,” he added, “It appears you clearly are.”

Cecil beamed. They turned off all the lights in the house except the kitchen light, which Cecil insisted they leave on in case they had an unexpected visitor — he didn’t want to be rude. Carlos just shook his head as they left the house. Cecil locked the door and Carlos started the car. They drove through the dark, deserted streets with just the radio on low in the background until the “Welcome to Night Vale” sign was just a speck in Carlos’s rear-view mirror.

“You know, I can’t remember the last time I left Night Vale,” Cecil said as they crossed the official city limits, designated by a glowing green line across the road and a distinct feeling of unease. “It’s…” he paused, searching for the right word. “…weird.”

“Well, Cecil,” Carlos said, glancing over at his boyfriend. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

 

\--------------------------

 

Cecil gripped Carlos’s hand as the plane landed, but less tightly this time than when it had taken off. He stared out the window at the snowy Manhattan skyline, eyes nearly as wide as they were when he saw the mountains for the first time a few hours ago. The plane descended quickly, and before they knew it, the pair had exited the plane, collected their larger suitcases from baggage claim, and were outside waiting for a cab.

Cecil stared down at the snow beneath his feet. Carlos watched as he rocked gently back and forth on his heels, feeling and hearing the crunch under his shoes. Carlos felt bad when they reached the front of the line and he had to herd Cecil into the taxi. He gave the address to the driver and they sped off through the streets, Cecil’s forehead pressed against the window as he drank in the unfamiliar sights. Carlos called his mother to let her know they would be there soon. For the rest of the ride, he watched Cecil, occasionally looking past him at the familiar cityscape.

Carlos had to hand it to the cab driver, who got them to their destination much more quickly than he had anticipated. They pulled up outside the small brick house and Carlos paid the driver while Cecil pulled their bags from the trunk.

“Well, this is it,” Carlos said, gesturing around at the neighborhood and the house, with its snowy lawn and front porch.

“Mm-hmm,” Cecil said, and Carlos swore he heard him mutter something to the effect of “this is so _neat_ ” under his breath.

Carlos’s heart raced as they dragged their suitcases up the stairs and to the front door. He knocked and waited for his mother to let them in. He glanced over at Cecil, who was nervously straightening his tie, breath forming bright clouds in the cold. Suddenly, Carlos heard footsteps nearing the door. The pair shared an anxious-but-excited look as the front door opened.

“Carlos, mijo, come here,” Carlos’s mother exclaimed, pulling her son into a tight, long embrace as soon as he got in the door and dropped his bags. Carlos couldn’t help but smile as he hugged her, reveling in the familiar smell of lavender and cooking spices. When they finally released each other, Carlos stepped back and looked from his mother’s beaming face to his boyfriend’s still-nervous one.

“Mama, this is Cecil,” he said. “Cecil, meet my mother, Rosa.” Carlos barely got the words out before his mother gave Cecil an equally warm hug.

“I’m so glad to meet you Cecil,” she said, “I’ve heard so much about you.” Cecil looked surprised but he returned the hug just as tightly.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you as well…” Cecil said, trailing off at the end, as if he were unsure of what to call her.

“Call me Mama,” she said, and Carlos knew that if he could see Cecil’s tattoos, they would be glowing bright pink.

Mama closed the door and insisted Cecil and Carlos put their things away and wash up because the others would be there soon and she needed to start dinner. Carlos led the way through the heavily decorated living and dining rooms and to his old bedroom, which he’d spent a little money on during the past couple of years to make it more like a guest room.

Much of the space was occupied by a full-sized bed that stuck out from the wall across from the door. On either side of the bed was a pair of matching nightstands and mismatched lamps. Carlos dragged his and Cecil’s bags to the far corner of the room, stacking them on and around the well-worn armchair he’d spent hours in while reading comics and textbooks and research materials for his undergraduate papers. He turned, and after a quick glance out the window at the snow-covered neighborhood, he saw that Cecil had noticed the trophies and medals on the shelves above the dresser across from the bed. He rolled his eyes — Mama must have put them all up again.

“So,” Carlos said, and Cecil looked over at him. He was still wearing that mixed expression of awe most often seen on a two-year-old. “Are you alright?”

“Alright? Carlos, I am wonderful,” Cecil said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Today, I saw mountains. _Mountains_ , Carlos, and skyscrapers! Of course, I knew _those_ existed, but for some reason I never thought I’d see one. And now, I’m sitting in your bedroom in the apartment you grew up in, I’m meeting your _family_ , for goodness’ sake…” he paused. “Never in my wildest dreams, nightmares, or even those weekly hallucinations did I imagine this.”

Carlos laughed.

“That’s very dramatic and kind of you, Cecil,” he said, unzipping his suitcase and throwing his folded shirts into an empty drawer. “You can have the other empty drawer if you want it.”

“I’m serious, Carlos,” Cecil said, hitting Carlos lightly on the arm. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome, querido. Now unpack your things so we can eat.”

Cecil rolled his eyes but did as Carlos asked. They got most of their things unpacked before someone knocked on the door.

“Carlos!” Mama shouted, and they heard her footsteps cross through the kitchen, dining room and living room before reaching the door. “Your sister’s here!”

“Come on Cecil,” Carlos said, reaching for his boyfriend’s hand. “Ana and Roberto can’t wait to meet you.”

He dragged Cecil back to the living room just in time to see his niece and three nephews burst through the door, followed by their parents. A grin broke across his face as he realized just how much he had missed his sister and her family.

“Tio Carlos!” the children shouted, clamoring around his legs. They were all between the ages of three and eight, so none of them were taller than Carlos’s waist.

“Hey!” Carlos said, ruffling the boys’ hair and scooping the youngest, his niece Pilar, into his arms. She pulled at Carlos’s curls as he gave his sister a one-armed hug and shook her husband’s hand. It wasn’t until one of his nephews loudly asked “Who are you?” that Carlos realized he had forgotten something amongst the chaos. He put his niece down and looked over at Cecil, who he hadn’t introduced yet and was standing awkwardly near the back of the room.

“Everybody, this is Cecil. Cecil, meet my sister Ana, her husband Roberto, and their kids Javier, Felix, Marco and Pilar.”

“It’s wonderful to meet all of you,” Cecil said, still using his professional voice, and shook hands with Ana and Roberto.

Meanwhile, Mama had set the table. She broke the slightly awkward moment that followed Cecil’s introduction by announcing that dinner was ready, and the group made their way to the long table off the living room and tucked in to enjoy the shellfish soup and fish.

The conversation started with the usual catching up between Carlos and his family — he asked after the children, his sister’s job at the library and Roberto’s job at his law firm, and they asked Carlos about his work and research. Finally, the topic inevitably turned to Cecil.

“So, Cecil,” Roberto said. “What do you do back home?”

Cecil swallowed the bite of fish he’d just taken and cleared his throat.

“I host Night Vale’s primary radio news show,” he answered proudly.

“What kinds of things do you report on?” Ana asked.

“Oh, the usual. Local politics, traffic, weather…”

“Carlos?” Mama added in slyly.

Everyone laughed. Carlos noticed that Cecil had relaxed somewhat, and he was more than impressed with his ability to navigate the tricky task of describing Night Vale to outsiders without freaking anyone out.

            The rest of the evening passed enjoyably. Ana and her family stayed until Pilar started to fall asleep at the card table set up for the kids, and they bade their goodbyes warmly and said they looked forward to Christmas dinner the next day.

            Once Carlos, Cecil and Mama were alone in the house again, they cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen before Carlos let out a huge yawn. Even though it wasn’t that late, Carlos and Cecil both knew they needed to catch up on their sleep. The pair said goodnight to Mama, changed clothes and took turns brushing their teeth in the bathroom. Carlos closed the bedroom door behind him and got into bed. Cecil was waiting, and he pulled Carlos in close. Exhausted from a long day of travel and family meetings and greetings, the pair barely said goodnight to each other before falling asleep.

 

\----------------

 

Carlos woke to the smell of churros wafting through the apartment and Cecil trying to extract himself from Carlos’s sleepy embrace. Carlos groaned and pulled Cecil back toward him. Cecil laughed and obliged, falling back into his arms.

“Good morning to you, too,” Cecil said in a low voice. “And merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas. Is it morning already?” Carlos asked, eyes closed.

“It’s after nine,” Cecil said. “Your mother just peeked in. She said breakfast is ready.”

“She did not,” Carlos said, mortified. “I’m so sorry.”

“She definitely did. And it’s quite alright.” Cecil paused. “Whatever she made sure smells good,” he added, and Carlos heard a note in his voice that signaled he was hungry.

“Fine,” Carlos replied, reluctantly letting Cecil go and getting out of bed. They dressed and went to the kitchen together.

“Merry Christmas mijos!” Mama said. She had set two places at the table, and the plate heaping with churros was in the center. It appeared that she had already eaten. “Did I wake you both? Lo siento,” she added.

“Dios mio, Mama, I’m thirty-two,” Carlos muttered, but he smiled in spite of himself as Cecil laughed quietly.

“Que?” she said.

“What do you have planned for today?” Carlos asked, louder this time, while he and Cecil sat at the table and filled their plates.

“Everyone will be here in a few hours and I have some cooking to do. Can you help?” she asked Carlos.

“Of course, Mama,” he replied.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Cecil asked, like nothing in the world would make him happier than being able to help out with the holiday preparations.

Mama laughed. “Can you wrap? I have a few presents for the kids I haven’t gotten to yet.”

“I would be delighted!” Cecil said.

Carlos watched Cecil wolf down the rest of his breakfast and immediately become something of a domestic god. He cleared the breakfast dishes and helped Mama clean up while Carlos got dressed. Mama found the remaining gifts and wrapping supplies and handed them off to Cecil, who wrapped everything expertly as Carlos and Mama started on the food for dinner.

Carlos and his family celebrated Christmas with a variety of traditions. The previous night’s Christmas Eve dinner was never missed, and Christmas day brought a day full of family time, a gift exchange, and traditional Spanish cuisine passed down for generations by the women in the family.

By noon, they had finished the chorizo and seafood tapas for everyone to snack on before dinner, and were starting on the lentil soup and roast lamb for the main course. Cecil finished the wrapping and placed all the gifts under the large tree in the living room, then helped clean dishes as Carlos and Mama cooked. Once Mama was satisfied that they couldn’t do anything more, the trio took a break to get themselves ready for the rest of the family to arrive. Carlos brushed his teeth and changed his sauce-covered shirt while Cecil got dressed.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Carlos said as he pulled on a red sweater.

“I really am, Carlos,” Cecil replied, adjusting his sweater vest and tie.

Carlos was constantly amazed at Cecil’s ability to make a normally odd outfit look so good.

“You know,” Cecil continued, looking away from the mirror to Carlos. “This is the first Christmas I can remember that I haven’t spent alone.”

This revelation hit Carlos like a ton of bricks. He should have realized it — he knew Cecil couldn’t remember much of his childhood and his previous relationships hadn’t coincided with the holiday season.

“Don’t look like that,” Cecil said soothingly, seeing the sadness on Carlos’s face. “It’s not your fault. I’m just saying I’m very lucky to be here with you and your family.”

Carlos closed the gap between them and kissed Cecil lightly.

“I’m so glad you agreed to come along,” he said.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

 

\------------------------------------------

 

Christmas dinner was a rousing success. Carlos’s sister and her family as well as his maternal grandparents and his aunt Lola and uncle Pablo crowded into the dining room to share the delicious dinner and the time with family. The evening passed in a blur of food and laughter and children running rampant throughout the house.  Gifts were passed around and opened — Carlos and Cecil both received hand-knit sweaters from Mama, and Cecil gave Carlos a beautiful and expensive new lab coat that was impervious to virtually every element. Unfortunately, Carlos left his gift for Cecil at home in Night Vale, and he felt like an idiot for a while as everyone else opened their gifts.

Once the wrapping paper and bags were cleaned up, the children decided they wanted to play outside in the snow, and they wanted Cecil to play with them. Carlos stood on the porch watching his nieces, nephews and cousins throwing snowballs at Cecil, who was throwing them back suspiciously quickly. He felt a rush of warm air as the door behind him opened. His sister stepped out next to him and handed him a cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” Carlos said, letting the hot mug warm his numb fingers.

“Sure,” Ana said.

She leaned against the railing and looked out at the children playing, sipping her coffee. She and Carlos laughed as the kids decided they’d had enough of snowballs and piled on top of a helpless Cecil.

“It’s good to see you, hermano,” she said, looking back at Carlos.

“It’s great to be home,” Carlos replied with a smile.

“Mama misses you.”

Carlos sighed. “I miss her, and you, too,” he said. “But the longer I stay in Night Vale, the more I get paid, since I guess it can be kind of dangerous sometimes… Anyway, I can afford to come home more often.”

“Christ, what do you even _do_ there?” Ana asked, incredulous.

“Oh, you know. Geological surveys, some astronomical recordings… I observe the weird stuff, just like any other job.” He paused. “There’s just a lot of weird stuff in Night Vale.”

They were quiet for a while, listening to the laughing from the yard below. Carlos was happy to see that Cecil was taking the children’s enthusiasm in stride, playing along even though his previous experience with children was generally not positive.

“He makes you happy,” Ana said. It was more of a statement than a question.

Carlos glanced over at her. “He really does,” he said. “I didn’t expect it. But that’s how it goes, I guess.”

“Hmm,” Ana sighed. “He’s kind of weird,” she said, and Carlos snorted. “But I like him. You did good, mi hermano,” she said, patting his shoulder.

“Well, thanks, I think,” Carlos replied. He tried to suppress his smile, but was unsuccessful.

Ana called for the children to come inside, and they finally let Cecil go and ran toward the door. Carlos put his mug down on the porch rail and went to help Cecil up.

“Sorry about them,” Carlos said, but Cecil laughed and shook his head.

“It’s fine!” he said, taking Carlos’s outstretched hand and pulling himself out of the snow. “They’re very energetic, and not even one of them had that vacant stare on their face!”

Again, Carlos couldn’t fight a smile. He wasn’t sure what it was — probably  the combination of being reunited with his family, the approval he’d received from his mother and sister, spending the holidays with Cecil, and, okay, maybe the wine from dinner — but he couldn’t help himself. He kissed Cecil heartily, feeling none of the cold air around him. Cecil was surprised but not unwilling, and he wound one arm around Carlos and one hand into his snow-dusted dark hair.

The pair was bathed in light as the door opened again.

“Carlos,” Ana called.

Carlos and Cecil broke apart, both blushing rather furiously.

“Oh… sorry,” she said, and Carlos could see a smile on her face. “Abuela wants to hear you and Tio play something.”

It didn’t seem possible, but Carlos blushed harder when Cecil gave him a questioning look. Carlos didn’t explain, just took Cecil’s hand and led him inside. They shed their coats and boots and joined the rest of the family in the living room.

“Ah, Carlos!” his uncle Pablo said, holding out a guitar.

Carlos took it and sat in the empty spot next to his uncle on the couch, while Cecil stood near the back of the room. Carlos was undeniably nervous — he had never played anything, or even sang, for Cecil before. And now he had to do it in front of his family… he hadn’t thought to be worried about this, but he was definitely worried now.

There was nothing to be done, however, because in a matter of moments his uncle was whispering the name of a song into his ear, and Carlos was nodding automatically because he did know that song and remembered how to play his part. It had been years, but he still remembered. Almost involuntarily, his fingers began to strum across the strings and play the quick, lilting melody.

He let himself be drowned in the music, like he drowned in the experiments and data analysis he was so used to. He sang the harmonies with his uncle — it was a song about love, because who would choose a song about anything else around the holidays, and Carlos thought of Cecil as he sang, but he didn’t look at him until the song was nearly over for fear of losing his nerve. When he did, he saw Cecil’s mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes held a fierce look of pride, love, desire, or a mix of the three. When he played the final notes of the song and his family applauded, Carlos looked up at Cecil again, and he wasn’t entirely convinced that Cecil wasn’t going to melt on the spot.

 

\----------------------

 

Much later, Carlos and Cecil walked together through the snowy streets of the now-quiet neighborhood. The family had gone, the house was clean, and Mama had gone to bed early. Carlos was trying to ignore the fact that they had to go back home the next day — Cecil could only be gone for a few days at a time before the citizens of Night Vale started getting anxious about their precious radio host. He decided to take Cecil around the neighborhood, partly so he could show Cecil more about where he grew up, and partly so he could reminisce about his childhood.

They strolled along, leaving tracks in the snow, as Carlos pointed out which childhood friends lived in which house and went off on a few tangents about where those friends were currently—some worked in the city, some lived at home, and some had moved far away for exotic jobs. Cecil listened attentively, nodding and commenting in all the right places. Carlos admired Cecil’s listening skills as much as his public speaking skills, especially at times like these when he knew Cecil would never use this information again.

As they passed the church Carlos had attended for years — his mother still went, but Carlos wasn’t much for church these days — Carlos remembered the gift fiasco from earlier.

“I really am sorry I forgot your gift,” he said sheepishly, eyes on the ground.

“Carlos!” Cecil said, slight exasperation in his voice. “Don’t even worry about it. Honestly, it is not a big deal.”

“Well, still, I felt bad. Everyone else had gifts, but I was so preoccupied with getting here in one piece, I just completely forgot.”

“Really. It is okay,” Cecil said, annunciating every word. “Just being here with you and your family is a perfect gift. Though I might have to find a guitar for the house now that I know your musical talent is as glorious as the rest of you,” he added with a chuckle.

Carlos just smiled and blushed. He looked over at Cecil and caught his violet eyes for a moment before they flitted away to watch the snow falling. Silently, Carlos disagreed with Cecil’s assessment of what “a perfect gift” was. For, at that moment, Carlos knew that Cecil was the most perfect gift he had ever, or would ever, receive.


End file.
